Green Arrow: Vertigo
by Finmonster
Summary: Five years after his sudden disappearance, former street tough Oliver returns to Star City a changed man. Looking to make a difference, he begins a one man war against the criminals who infest the city he calls home. But in doing so, he will uncover just how corrupt Star City has become and how it relates to the family he never knew he had.
1. Welcome Home

**Green Arrow: Vertigo**

**Chapter 1: Welcome Home**

_Star City TransPacific Railway Station_

Down next to the old dockyards that occupied much of the area where Star City met the Pacific Ocean was what looked like a train station, constructed and designed in the most modern architectural styles. Indeed, a track designed for a monorail train ran into the building, but instead of leading into the city, the rail disappeared into a tunnel that led beneath the water.

A group of people had gathered at the side of the station's one terminal, facing a small stage. Most of the gathered people were reporters, their cameras and microphones focused on the three men standing near a podium. As they watched, one person, a middle-aged Caucasian man dressed in a dark grey suit, stepped up to the podium.

"Good morning, everyone," the man greeted, "I wanted to thank you all for being here today for the completion of the inaugural trip of the TransPacific Railway. As many of you know, the state of the art bullet train, designed in a decades long joint venture between the Yashida Corporation and Queen Consolidated, left Sendai, Japan yesterday. According to the eggheads in charge of this operation, it should be arriving just about….now."

As the man spoke, the sound of whooshing air came from the tunnel, followed a moment later by the darkness being pierced by a pair of bright lights. A few seconds after that, a sleekly designed train emerged from the tunnel and glided to a stop within the station, kept hovering just above the rail by a series of powerful magnets installed along its belly.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the man continued, gesturing grandly to the train as he spoke, "As the mayor of our fair city, allow me to be the first to introduce to you the future! The TransPacific Railway!"

As the gathered crowd politely applauded, the train settled down onto the rail, the low hum coming from its magnets ceasing.

"Now, I'm sure you all have many questions," the mayor stated, before he indicated to the two men standing to the side, "For that, let me introduce to you the two men who helped bring this marvelous feat of engineering to life. The CEO of Queen Consolidated, Mr. Werner Zytle, and the CEO of the Yashida Corporation, Mr. Shingen Harada!"

As the mayor stepped aside, the two men stepped up to the podium. One was a tall middle-aged Caucasian man dressed in a dark green suit. His blonde hair had begun to recede, making his widow's peak all the more prominent and he studied the crowd with cold blue eyes. The other was a young Asian man dressed in black suit. His black hair was finely coiffed and his eyes were covered by a pair of expensive looking sunglasses. They both shook hands with the mayor before the older man stepped up to the microphone, the younger one standing to his side.

"Thank you, Mayor Altman," the man said, his voice carrying a slight accent from somewhere in Eastern Europe, "And thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for being here on this momentous occasion."

Pausing for a moment in his speech, the man, Werner Zytle, motioned to the train with one hand.

"What you seen before you is culmination of one man's dream," Werner continued, "That of my dearly departed friend, Robert Queen."

Werner paused again, a solemn expression on his face.

"I wish he was here to see this, his life's work," Werner stated, "The very work he gave his life for. But this is not a day for mourning, but for celebration. So please, join me in welcoming the arrival of Robert Queen's legacy!"

At that moment, the doors to the train opened and a number of people began to depart, applauding as they did. In all the commotion, nobody noticed as a figure slipped out from between two of the cars and dropped down onto the other side of the train.

He was a young man in his mid-twenties, with Asian features, tanned skin, messy black hair and a scruffy beard. He wore a dirty green, hood sweatshirt that was barely holding together, a filthy, ripped pair of blue jeans, and sneakers with so many holes in them that they were practically sandals. Slung around his shoulders was a dark green gym bag.

Moving lightly, the young man snuck across the train station before exiting through a side door. Glancing around, the young man paused long enough to get his bearings, taking a moment to marvel at the skyscrapers that dominated Star City's skyline before he nimbly hopped the fence surrounding the building and disappeared into the concrete jungle.

_Freeman Community Center_

Deep within the confines of Star City was a rough and economically depressed neighborhood known as the Glades. At the center of the Glades was a squat, utilitarian building that an the words "Freeman Community Center" emblazoned above its door. Inside the building were a number of rooms used for various purposes, including a gymnasium and an indoor pool.

Tucked away in a small and messy office, was a middle-aged African American man. He was tall and athletically built, with black hair cut close to his head and a trimmed goatee. He was dressed in a dark navy suit and white button-up shirt, his suit jacket slung around the back of his chair while his blue tie hung loosely around his neck. He was currently reading a document, his brown eyes scanning it through a pair of reading glasses while his head was supported by the arm he had propped up on his desk.

"Mr. Pierce?" a young woman said from outside his office.

"Candice, how many times have I told you?" the man said good naturedly as he took off his glasses and looked up at her, "You can just call me Jefferson."

"Okay, Mr….uh, Jefferson," Candice replied with a nervous laugh, "There's uh….there's someone here to see you."

"To see me?" Jefferson questioned as his brow furrowed in confusion, "I didn't think I had any appointments today."

"You don't, sir," Candice answered, "But I think you'll want to see this person all the same."

His curiosity peaked, Jefferson stood from his chair and followed Candice as she led him to the community center's entrance lobby. As they approach, Jefferson saw the young man who had stowed away on TransPacific Railway waiting for him with his head lowered.

"Hello," Jefferson greeted with a friendly smile, "Can I help you with something?"

"It's been a long time, Mr. Pierce," the young man said, his words slow and methodical, as if he was out of practice in speaking.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Jefferson asked as he drew closer to the young man, Candice hanging back with a concerned look on her face.

In answer, the young man raised his head and looked Jefferson directly in the eye, grinning as he did.

"You really don't remember me, Mr. Pierce?" the young man questioned, "After all the shit you had to put up with because of me?"

As Jefferson looked the young man in the eye, recognition hit him and an expression of astonishment plastered itself across his features.

"Oh my God!" Jefferson shouted as he grasped the young man by the shoulders, "Oliver!?"

_5 Years Earlier_

"Oliver!" a voice shouted from down the alleyway as a young man in dirty, threadbare clothes ran down it, "Ollie! Cops!"

At this, the second young man who had been crouching in the alley looked up sharply. He was relatively short, with Asian features, a lean frame, a close cut black hair. He wore a black tank top, a pair of old, white sneakers and baggy blue jeans that hung low enough to allow his grey boxer shorts to be seen.

"Shit!" the young man, Oliver, spat as he stood up, tossing aside the wallet he had been rifling through as he took off down the alley, falling into step alongside the other young man.

"There they are, officers!" a voice shouted from down the alley, "Those are the crooks who stole my wallet!"

"Hey you!" another voice yelled, "Stop!"

"SCPD!" a third voice called, accompanied by the sounds of feet slamming against the pavement behind them, "Don't move!"

Neither of the young men paid heed to the order they had been given as they raced down the alley, desperately trying to outrun their pursuers. Turning a corner, the two skidded to a halt as they found their way blocked by a chain link fence.

"Shit!" the other young man shouted as he saw the fence, "We are so busted!"

"Not yet we're not," Oliver replied with a look of determination, "Come on!"

Rushing towards the fence, Oliver hopped up before grabbing onto it and starting to scale it. Oliver's friend watched him in surprise for a moment before following suit. By the time Oliver had gotten to the top of the fence, a pair of men dressed in navy blue police uniforms came running around the corner after them. Hopping off the fence, Oliver landed on the other side as the police officer's grabbed hold of the back of his friend's shirt and pulled him off the chain link. Oliver only spared a moment to watch his friend struggle hopelessly against the officers' grips before he turned and fled down the alley.

As Oliver approached the end of the alley, a grin of triumph began to spread across his features. Then, just as he reached the end of the alley, the sound of police sirens screeched through the air. A moment later, a police cruiser with Star City Police Department written across the side skidded to a halt in front of the alley, blocking it.

His eyes widening in shock, Oliver thought quickly. A determined look crossing his face, Oliver rushed forward, leaping onto the hood of the police cruiser and sliding across it. His sneakers hitting the pavement, Oliver moved to continue running. Before he could though, the passenger door slammed open, hitting the young man in the side. The blow sent Oliver stumbling onto his hands and knees, allowing the police officer who had opened the door to tackle him to the ground. Oliver struggled for a moment, but in the end, he could do nothing but grit his teeth in frustration as the officer yanked his arms behind his back and slapped cuffs on his wrists.

_Later,_

Oliver sat in barred cell in the general holding area of a SCPD precinct. Sighing in defeat, Oliver lay down on the metal bench he was sitting on and stared at the off white ceiling above.

"Man, I can't believe you just ditched me like that," Oliver's friend grumbled from the spot where he sat glaring at Oliver.

"Come on, man, you would have done the same thing," Oliver replied with a dismissive wave of his hand, "Besides, what did you want me to do? Fight off those cops with my mad kung fu skills?"

"I guess not," Oliver's friend answered with a sigh, "Still, not cool, bro."

"Whatever," Oliver said flippantly, "You gotta do what you gotta do to survive. When an opportunity to save your skin comes along, you've got to grab it."

"Oliver!" the police officer called out as he walked into the holding cells, reading the name of the clipboard he was carrying, "I'm looking for an Oliver Smith!"

"Speaking of which," Oliver said with a grin as he hopped to his feet, "Here!"

Looking in Oliver's direction, the police officer stopped in front of the holding cell Oliver was in.

"You're Oliver Smith?" the police officer questioned with a quirked eyebrow.

"Yeah, what of it?" Oliver challenged, "You expecting my last name to be Chan or something? What do you want?"

"You made bail," the police officer replied caustically, "Thought you'd want to know."

"I did?" Oliver asked in confusion as he stood and walked up to the bars of his cell.

"Well, someone paid bail for you," the police officer explained, "But you could always stay if you really want."

"No, no!" Oliver replied quickly, giving the police officer a friendly smile as he did, "I'll take it, it's cool."

"That's what I thought," the police officer replied as he unlocked the cell and opened the door to allow Oliver to exit. As Oliver walked out of the cell, he shot his friend a cocky smile, prompting the other young man to flip him off. Leading Oliver out of the holding area, the police officer brought him into the precinct's bullpen. Instead of bringing Oliver towards the front desk, however, the officer lead him towards one of the interrogation rooms.

"Hey, what's the deal?" Oliver questioned in confusion, "I thought you were letting me go?"

"Someone wanted to talk to you first," the police officer replied as he ushered Oliver into the interrogation room and closed the door behind him.

Glancing around the room, Oliver saw that the interrogation room fit the description of what he imagined they were like, with dark colored walls illuminated by a single light that hung from the center of the ceiling. At the center of the room was a metal table flanked by matching chairs, while one of the walls was dominated by what appeared to be a large mirror.

Sitting in the chair across the table from the entrance was a middle-aged man. He had blonde hair that had begun to go grey, grey eyes and a trimmed goatee. He wore an expensive, dark green suit with a matching tie and a white, button-up shirt. As Oliver entered the room, the man looked up from the file that lay open on the table.

"Hello, Oliver," the man greeted.

"Hey," Oliver replied, clearly weary and confused.

"Why don't you have a seat?" the man suggested as he gestured to the empty chair.

"You a fed or something?" Oliver questioned as he sat in the chair, slouching and crossing his arms over his chest.

"No," the man replied with an amused smile and a shake of his head, "My name is Robert Queen."

"Queen?" Oliver questioned with a quirked eyebrow, "As in that big tech company?"

"Queen Consolidated," the man, Robert, replied with a nod, "Yes, that's my company."

"Damn," Oliver commented with a smirk, "What the hell are you doing here? Shouldn't you screwing supermodels or swimming in pools full of money or something?"

"I'm here to see you, Oliver," Robert explained.

"Why?" Oliver questioned with a baffled laugh.

"Breaking and entering," Robert said, turning his attention towards the file in front of him and ignoring the question, "Grand theft auto. Petty theft. Public indecency. You've racked up quite the record for someone so young."

"Yeah, so?" Oliver challenged.

"You're going down a dangerous path," Robert observed.

"What does it matter to you?" Oliver demanded.

"It matters to me because you're my son, Oliver," Robert answered.

There was a pause as Oliver stared at Robert for a moment before he burst out laughing.

"Shit man, that's a good one!" Oliver said between fits of laughter, "You-You had me going there for a second!"

"I'm not joking, Oliver," Robert insisted calmly.

At this, Oliver's laughter died down and he looked at Robert in confusion.

"What are you talking about, man?" Oliver questioned.

"I'm your father," Robert repeated.

"Bullshit, you are!" Oliver snapped, "Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately, Wonder Bread?"

"Have you?" Robert countered, "I admit, you take after your mother more than me, but I can still see that you're my son. It's in your eyes."

"Don't give me that Harry Potter bullshit," Oliver replied as he turned his grey eyes away from Robert, "What's this really about? This some trick? You trying lead me into your pervy rich man sex dungeon?"

"Nothing like that, Oliver," Robert replied with a tired, disgusted look.

"Then what is this!?" Oliver snapped angrily as he glared at Robert, "Because you expect me to believe that you're my long lost father who decided to pop in after I spent my whole life on the street?"

"I know it doesn't make much sense, Oliver," Robert admitted with a sad sigh, "And I am certainly responsible for not being present in your life. But I am telling you the truth. I am your father."

"So, what is this?" Oliver questioned with a snort, "Some kind of intervention?"

"Yes," Robert replied with a nod, "If you want to put a label on it, yes, I suppose it is."

"Alright then, let's say you are my old man," Oliver said contemptuously, "So you're plan is what? Walk into my life and use your money to set me on the right path? Turn me into a productive member of society?"

"That would be something I'd want to see you become," Robert answered with a sigh, "But I'm not sure I have the time for that."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Oliver questioned before a look of understanding crossed his face, "Oh shit, is that what this is about? Are you dying or something?"

"No, Oliver, I'm not dying," Robert replied, "Not yet, anyway."

Oliver quietly quirked an eyebrow in reply.

"I'm going to be taking a trip soon," Robert went on, ignoring Oliver's look, "To look into a….business asset of mine. I wanted you to come with me."

"Looking for some last minute bonding time?" Oliver asked with a snort, "You realize I don't really believe you still, right?"

"I thought that it might come to that," Robert responded with a sigh as he retrieved something from his pocket and placed it on the table, "Which is why I brought this."

Looking down, Oliver realized the object was a check. Glancing at Robert, Oliver waited until Robert nodded at him encouragingly before he picked it up. Examining the check, Oliver's eyes wide before he looked at Robert in shock.

"Dude, are you serious right now?" Oliver questioned before looking back at the check to make sure he had read it right.

"I am," Robert confirmed with a nod.

"Let me guess," Oliver said, his shock giving way to skepticism, "I only get this if I go on the trip with you, right?"

"No, you can walk out of here right now with it," Robert answered with a shake of his head, "It's not a bribe. It's a gesture of goodwill. If you choose not to come on the trip with me, and want nothing more to do with me, at least I will know you're taken care of."

Oliver said nothing in reply, though he continued to glance suspiciously between Robert and the check. Seeing this, Robert sighed and stood from his chair.

"For what it's worth, Oliver," Robert said as he fixed his jacket, "It was good to see you."

With that Robert began making his way to the door leading out of the interrogation room.

"Say…." Oliver began to say, causing Robert to pause before opening the door and look back at the young man, who's gaze was focused on the check,"Say I did decide to go on this trip with you. Do I need to meet you at the airport or something?"

"Airport?" Robert repeated with a snort of amusement, "No."

Turning to look at Robert in confusion, Oliver watched as he reached into his pocket and pulled something out before handing it to the young man.

"Meet me tomorrow at the marina," Robert stated before turning away and leaving.

Looking down at the item Robert had handed him, Oliver saw that it was a picture of a luxury yacht docked in a marina. The boat was painted pure white, and across the side of it was written the name "The Queen's Gambit."

"Man," Oliver sighed, "This had better not be a sex thing."

A/N: Yep, I'm taking another shot at doing some superhero stuff. Hope you guys enjoy it! As always, feedback and critiques are always welcome, so please review! Later!


	2. The Queen's Gambit

**Chapter 2: The Queen's Gambit**

Now sitting in an old metal and plastic chair on one side of Jefferson's desk, Oliver slid off his hood, running a hand through his scraggly black hair in the process. Closing the door to his office, Jefferson took a steadying breath before he turned to look at Oliver. For a moment, Jefferson could do nothing but stare at Oliver, not sure he believed that the young man was really sitting there. Then, after taking a moment to steady himself, Jefferson walked over to his desk and sat in his chair across from Oliver.

"Oliver," Jefferson began to say, struggling to put his thoughts into words as he stared at the young man, "Where….where have you been?"

Oliver said nothing as he looked around the room, seemingly having not heard Jefferson.

"Oliver?" Jefferson asked, a concerned expression spreading across his face.

"Huh?" Oliver replied dumbly, blinking his eyes rapidly as if he was waking up from a dream, "Sorry, what did you say, Mr. Pierce?"

"I asked where you've been," Jefferson repeated, worry clear on his features, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Oliver answered, pausing to clear his throat before continuing, "I guess I'm just getting used to talking to people again."

"Getting used to talking to people?" Jefferson question in confusion, "Oliver, where have you been?"

"You ever hear of a place called Lian Yu?" Oliver asked in reply, a far away look coming over his face.

"No," Jefferson replied with a shake of his head, "Where is it?"

"It's a remote island in the Pacific," Oliver explained, "The name is Chinese. Literally means "Purgatory"."

"Oliver, are you saying you were stranded on an island in the Pacific for five years?" Jefferson asked, clearly shocked.

"Is that how long its been?" Oliver questioned in reply, chuckling a little, "I lost track after a while."

"Oliver, I'm being serious," Jefferson replied, crossing his arms as he narrowed his eyes at the young man, "Most people thought you just left town one day. The police were looking for you for skipping bail."

"If I'm lying, I'm dying, Mr. Pierce," Oliver said as he held his hands up in front of him.

"Well, if you're telling the truth, how did you end up on this island?" Jefferson questioned as he leaned back in his chair.

"Well, if you know about the bail, then you have to know about who paid it, don't you?" Oliver asked in return.

"Robert Queen," Jefferson answered with a nod, a puzzled look on his face, "I never understood why he did that."

"It's because he was my dad," Oliver explained simply.

There was a long pause as Jefferson stared at Oliver in shock.

"Robert Queen….was your father?" Jefferson questioned slowly.

Oliver merely nodded in reply as a look of realization crossed Jefferson's features.

"You're saying you were on the Queen's Gambit, aren't you?" Jefferson surmised.

Oliver could only smile at that.

"What happened on that ship, Oliver?" Jefferson asked as he leaned forward in his chair.

"That," Oliver said as he leaned back in his chair, "Is a long story."

_5 years earlier_,

Standing outside the Star City Marina, Oliver, now dressed in a dark green hoodie over a grey t-shirt, blue jeans and black sneakers, with a black, nylon backpack slung over his shoulder, looked at the gate hesitantly. As he did, a man dressed in a security guard uniform walked up, a suspicious look on his face.

"Can I help you?" the guard questioned as he stopped next to Oliver, his thumbs in his belt.

"Oh, uh, yeah," Oliver replied, immediately feeling uneasy in the guard's presence, "I was just here to meet Robert Queen."

"Robert Queen, huh?" the guard questioned with a dubious expression, "Right. Look kid, this is private property, so why don't you get out of here before I get the cops involved?"

Oliver eyes narrowed as he got ready to argue with the guard, but paused as the gate leading into the marina opened and Robert Queen stepped out.

"Do we have a problem out here, Bob?" Robert asked as he gave the guard a questioning look.

"Oh, uh, no, no problem, Mr. Queen," the guard, Bob, replied as he flashed Robert an uneasy smile, "Just dealing with some riff-raff."

"Well, that "riff-raff", as you call him, is my personal guest," Robert explained, his expression turning serious, "So, I would appreciate it if you didn't harass him."

"I-I'm sorry, Mr. Queen," Bob muttered, his face going pale as he realized the gaff he had just made, "I-I didn't know."

"I'm sure it won't be a mistake you make again," Robert observed, before he turned his attention towards Oliver, "Come on, Oliver. I'll show you in."

Nodding in reply, Oliver followed Robert towards the marina gate, flashing a smirk at Bob as he passed.

Walking along the docks of the marina, Oliver's eyes widened in surprise as he spotted the pristine white, three deck yacht with the name "Queen's Gambit" stenciled along the side.

"Man, I knew you rich people had yachts but it's one thing to know that and another to see one up close, ya know?" Oliver said with a laugh, "This thing is sick and I don't even give a crap about boats."

"Well, I'm happy you approve," Robert replied with a chuckle, "It's a good thing you like it too, since we'll be spending a lot of time on it. At least, if you decide you're willing to come with me, that is."

Oliver looked thoughtful for a second before he smirked and shrugged.

"It's not like I have anything better to do," Oliver replied before a thought seemed to occur to him, "Won't the cops be pissed that I skipped town on bail though?"

"I've learned that the police can be quite….pliable when you use the right tactics," Robert answered with a somewhat awkward expression.

"I bet," Oliver commented with a snort, "So, where we going anyway?"

"I have some assets I wanted to check on on an island in the Pacific," Robert explained as they approached the gangplank leading onto the yacht.

"Wouldn't it be easier to fly there?" Oliver questioned as they reached the gangplank, "Like, I figure if you've got enough money for a yacht, then you have enough for a private jet."

"True enough," Robert agreed with a laugh, "But where we're going doesn't have an airport or anything like that. It will give us time to get to know one another."

Walking up the gangplank, Robert turned to look back at Oliver as he followed behind him and flashed him a smile.

"Also, it's easier to show up unannounced on a boat," Robert explained, "Which means you can see how things are really run, not just how it is when your employees clean things up for the boss."

Oliver could only chuckle at this as he followed Robert up onto the deck of the ship.

_Days later_,

The sun was setting on the horizon as the Queen's Gambit sailed along the wide open expanse of the Pacific Ocean. On the third floor of the yacht, Oliver and Robert sat in the cabin, a well appointed room lit by electric lights designed to resemble candles mounted in the corners. The floor was covered in a rich, Persian rug and consisted of a pair of fine leather couches facing each other across a glass coffee table.

"Okay, so you're saying the first time you were arrested was for stealing a dozen Twinkies?" Robert questioned with a laugh, a class of scotch in his hand.

"Look, I was trying to lift just one of them," Oliver explained with a chuckle, "But the cashier spotted me, so I panicked and grabbed the whole box instead. The cops caught me a block away trying to destroy the evidence."

"Destroying the evidence?" Robert questioned with a quirked eyebrow.

"I had already stuffed about six of the Twinkies into my mouth when the cops found me," Oliver explained, prompting Robert to let out a loud laugh.

"Yeah, it's pretty funny looking back on it," Oliver continued, as his smile fell away from his face, "The beating my foster dad gave me afterwards isn't."

Robert's laughter quickly died as a look of guilt plastered itself across his face. Leaning forward, he placed his glass on the table and met Oliver's gaze.

"I'm sorry for everything you went through, Oliver," Robert said solemnly, "I'm sorry for not being there for you."

"Being sorry implies that you never wanted to give me up," Oliver observed as he looked away from Robert, "So why did you?"

"Your mother and I….we never wanted to give you up," Robert answered with a sigh, "Not truly. But there were factors outside our control."

"Factors?" Oliver asked in confusion.

"My father….he was not a kind man," Robert explained, a distant look in his eye, "He only cared about increasing the power of our family, and that included making sure his son married someone who would add to it."

"So, I'm guessing my mom wasn't that kind of woman," Oliver observed.

"Your mother was an immigrant from Japan," Robert elaborated, "I met her while she was working as a secretary at Queen Consolidated. We hit it off and before we knew it…."

"She was knocked up with me," Oliver guessed, a troubled expression on his face.

"You have to understand, we had to keep the whole thing a secret," Robert said, "My father would have done just about anything to….get rid of an unwanted member of the Queen family. And your mother's family wouldn't have wanted to have anything to do with you either."

"So you did it to protect me," Oliver surmised, his gaze focused on the floor before him.

"We did," Robert replied with a nod of his head.

"There's one thing I don't get though," Oliver said as he raised his gaze to look at Robert, "Is your old man even around anymore?"

Robert blinked in surprise at the question before his expression turned guilty.

"No, he died a number of years ago," Robert answered quietly.

"So, if he hasn't been around for awhile, why are you just getting in touch with me now?" Oliver questioned as his gaze hardened.

"I'll be honest with you, Oliver, I don't have a good answer for that," Robert replied with a sigh, "After my father passed, I thought of tracking you down, but by that time….I already had a family."

"You were worried about your wife?" Oliver questioned with incredulous expression, "I thought you loved my mom?"

"I did….I do," Robert answered as he looked down at his hands, "Your mom immigrated back to Japan not long after you were born, and not long after that, I married Moira and while she might not be the person I would have chosen….she's a good woman."

"And you wouldn't want her to be embarrassed by your long lost son showing up," Oliver accused.

"I would have lost my family, Oliver," Robert argued.

"You're that worried about losing the woman you just said you aren't in love with?" Oliver asked, a look of clear bafflement on his face.

"Not Moira," Robert admitted with a sigh, "Your sister."

"My….My sister?" Oliver questioned, clearly caught off guard.

Reaching into his pocket, Robert pulled out his phone and brought up a picture before handing it to Oliver. Looking at the picture, Oliver saw that it was a girl roughly twelve years of age with long, straight blonde hair and grey eyes just like Oliver and Robert's. The picture seemed to be a school photo, as she was dressed in a preppy school uniform, with her hair pulled back into a low ponytail.

"This is Mia," Robert explained, "Moira and I had her a few years after we got married."

"I….I never…." Oliver mumbled, "As a kid….I sometimes thought about….you know, what my parents might be like but I never thought…."

"That you had any siblings?" Robert finished with a nod of understanding, "You'd like her. She's a firecracker just like you. Can't keep her anyone place for long. She used to run around so much we started calling her Speedy."

Oliver said nothing as he continued to stare at the picture, lost in thought.

"I know this doesn't excuse what I've done, Oliver," Robert continued with a sigh, "But I hope it helps you understand. But that being said, I'm done hiding all this. When we get back, I'm telling the whole world that you're my son. And you'll be able to meet your sister."

At this point, Oliver raised his head and looked Robert in the eye.

"I think I'd like that," Oliver stated with a genuine smile.

_Later_,

The room that had been set aside for Oliver on the yacht was easily twice the size of any bedroom that Oliver had ever had, with a queen sized bed covered in silk sheets. It was the most luxurious bed that Oliver had ever laid on and yet he found he couldn't sleep. Sighing, Oliver, now without his sweatshirt and shoes, sat up in bed and looked around the darkened room. Eventually, his gaze was drawn to a porthole looking towards the bow of the boat and he slid off his bed before walking over to the window.

Peering out the porthole, Oliver could see what lay before the Queen's Gambit. For the most part, there seemed to be nothing but the vast expanse of the ocean, the darkened waves lapping at the boat's hull illuminated dully by the moon and stars in the sky above. As Oliver continued to stare out the window though, something on the horizon caught his attention, a large, solid black mass against the star-filled sky. After a moment of looking, Oliver realized that it was an island.

Then, suddenly, the boat rocked violently and Oliver was thrown to the side.

Grunting in pain as he hit the floor, Oliver slid across it a few feet as the room tipped dangerously to one side. After sliding to a stop, Oliver managed to push himself to his feet, only to almost fall again as the ship rocked a second time. Looking around with a bewildered expression, Oliver heard the sounds of shouting outside his room and quickly moved to put on his shoes and sweatshirt.

A moment later, Oliver exited his room, only to be thrown into the wall across the narrow hall as the boat rocked again. Grunting from the impact, Oliver pulled himself back to his feet and began to hurry down the hall, using the wall to steady himself. Hearing voices shouting above him, Oliver rushed towards a set of metal stairs leading to the upper decks, struggling to retain his balance as the ship continued to violently rock back and forth.

Reaching the top deck, Oliver began looking around wildly in an attempt to get a sense of his surroundings. The first thing that Oliver noticed was the large column of smoke that was rising from the back of the ship, which Oliver could only assume was where the engines were located. Hearing more shouting, Oliver turned in the direction of the noise and spotted Robert being loaded into a wooden lifeboat by two of the crew.

"Oliver!" Robert shouted as he spotted his son and desperately waved him over, "Oliver, we have to get out of here!"

"What's going on!?" Oliver questioned as he began running to the lifeboat.

"I don't know!" Robert replied as the crew men prepared to lower the lifeboat, "I think there was some kind of-"

Robert was cut off as an explosion erupted from the back of the ship near where Oliver had seen the column of smoke rising from, sending a fireball rocketing into the air. The force of the blast knocked Oliver completely off his feet and slammed him down onto the deck. At the same time, the explosion sent shards of metal shrapnel shooting through the air, striking one of the crew in the back, knocking him to the deck with a foot long piece of metal sticking out of his torso. Another piece of shrapnel struck the mechanism used to lower the lifeboat, sending it and Robert plummeting out of view. At the same time, the sudden movement jerked the other crew member off his feet and slammed him into the now broken mechanism, the man hitting the machinery with a sickening crack before he too disappeared off the side of the boat.

His ears ringing, Oliver slowly pushed himself to his feet and looked around with bleary eyes. Half of the ship was now in flames, and, through the fire, Oliver could make out a gaping hole where the back of the ship had been. As he regained his wits and saw no sign of Robert, Oliver quickly made his way over to where Robert's lifeboat had been, sparing a queasy glance towards the crew member now bleeding out on the deck as he went.

"Robert!" Oliver shouted as he reached the side of the boat, gripping the railing for stability as he peered down at the churning sea below. After a moment, Oliver quickly spotted Robert in the lifeboat dozens of feet below him.

"Are you okay!?" Oliver shouted down to him.

"I'm alright!" Robert called back as he looked up at Oliver, "You need to jump, Oliver!"

"Jump!?" Oliver exclaimed as he looked at the sheer drop between him and the water, "Are you crazy!?"

At that point, the ship rocked violently again and began tipping dangerously towards the back, raising the part Oliver was on even higher in the air. Gripping the guardrail tightly, Oliver managed to keep from falling as his feet slipped out from under him. As Oliver clung to the guardrail for dear life, he watched as the body of the crew member who had been struck by shrapnel slid down the deck before falling off and plunging into the ocean below.

"Oliver!" Robert called from down below, "You need to jump! You'll die if you don't get off that ship!"

"Yeah, like jumping won't kill me," Oliver mumbled to himself as he looked down at the churning sea.

Moving carefully, Oliver shifted himself so he was on the outside of the guardrail. As he got himself settled, the ship rocked again, almost throwing Oliver off as he let out a cry of surprise.

"Oliver!" Robert shouted, his voice laced with fear.

"Shitshitshitshit," Oliver whispered to himself as he regained his grip and began preparing himself to jump from the ship, "Oh, man, oh crap, I can't believe I'm about to do this. Okay, okay, okay!"

With that, Oliver pushed himself from the ship, his arms and legs thrashing wildly as he fell through the open air.

"Oh shiiiit!" Oliver screamed as he fell before he plunged into the churning sea, the shock of hitting the water stunning him for a moment as he sunk beneath the waves. After a moment, Oliver regained his senses and he swam upwards, gasping for air as he breached the surface.

"Oliver!" Robert called, catching the young man's attention, "Oliver, over here!"

Turning his attention towards the source of his father's voice, Oliver quickly swam over to the lifeboat that held his father, who reached a hand out to his son. Taking Robert's hand, Oliver let his father help him into the lifeboat, where he promptly flopped onto the floor, laying on his back as he fought to catch his breath.

"Are you okay, Oliver?" Robert asked as he loomed over the young man, a worried expression on his face.

"Yeah, I think so," Oliver replied, nodding as he sat up.

Looking towards where the Queen's Gambit had been, Oliver was shocked to see only the prow of the ship still above the surface.

"What happened?" Oliver questioned as he turned his attention back towards Robert.

"I-I don't know," Robert replied with a stunned shake of his head, "I was in my room when the ship rocked and the crew came to get me. One of them said something about the ship striking something that caused an explosion in the engine room…."

As Robert's words drifted away with a pensive look on the man's face, Oliver looked at him with concern.

"What is it?" Oliver questioned.

"It's….It's nothing," Robert replied as he shook his head clear.

"What do we do now?" Oliver asked.

Before Robert could answer, the distant sound of a motor engine caught both of their attentions. Turning towards the source, Oliver spotted a small boat skipping across the waves towards them from the direction of the island. The searchlight attached to the front of the boat swept across the dark waters before it landed on the lifeboat and focused on it, forcing both men to hold up their hands against the glare of the light. A few moments later, the boat pulled up next to the lifeboat, and the searchlight was pointed away from the men, allowing them to see who was on the other boat.

The first thing that Oliver noticed was the pair of men, dressed in dirty t-shirts and shorts, who were aiming automatic rifles at Oliver and Robert. The two men flanked an Asian woman in her late twenties. She was of short stature and slim build, dressed in a black leather jacket with matching tight pants, a pair of long knives hanging from her hips. Her most striking feature, however, was her pure white hair that hung past her shoulders.

"Good evening, Mr. Queen," the woman greeted with a cocky smile as she glanced at the Queen's Gambit just as it finished disappearing below the waterline, "It looks like you're having a little boat trouble."

"What is this!?" Robert demanded, glancing wearily between the woman and the men pointing guns at him, "Who are you!?"

"My name is Chien Na Wei," the woman explained as she rested her hands on her hips, "Though most people call me China White. And I'm here to welcome you…."

China White trailed off as she glanced at Oliver with her dark brown eyes.

"And your friend," she continued as she turned her attention back towards Robert, a sadistic grin on her face, "To Lian Yu. The Professor is very eager to talk to you."

A/N: Finally got around to writing another chapter for this one! Had a lot of fun writing it, so I hope you all enjoyed it! As always, feedback and critiques are always welcome, so please review! Later!


	3. The Professor

**Chapter 3: The Professor**

Jefferson Pierce sat on the worn brown couch that sat in the small living room of his apartment. Looking down, he examined Oliver's clothes as they sat next to him in a freshly washed and folded pile. Jefferson wondered if he should get rid of them, as the clothes were so worn and tattered, he couldn't imagine they were really still usable. On the other hand, Oliver had been wearing these clothes every day for five years, so Jefferson thought it was likely that he had formed some kind of attachment to them. Jefferson ultimately decided it was best to just let Oliver keep the clothes for now.

Looking away from the pile of clothes, Jefferson instead focused on the green duffle bag that sat on the floor. Jefferson briefly considered looking in it, curious as to what Oliver could possibly have thought was worth bringing back with him from the island, but realized that would be an invasion of the young man's privacy and left it alone.

A minute later, the door to the bathroom opened and Oliver emerged, most of the dirt and grime having been washed from his body. He was dressed in a black and green long-sleeved t-shirt with the Star City Rockets logo on it, along with a pair of blue jeans. Blinking in surprise, Jefferson noted that Oliver had cut his hair down to a short stubble, and trimmed his beard into a goatee.

"How are you feeling?" Jefferson questioned as he smirked at Oliver.

"I feel like it's nice to finally get some kind of haircut after five years," Oliver answered as he ran his hand through his much shorter hair, "Thanks for letting me borrow some of your clothes."

"Don't worry about it," Jefferson replied with a dismissive wave of his hand, before he arched an eyebrow at Oliver, "So I guess the question becomes "now what?""

"What do you mean?" Oliver inquired.

"Well, as much as I like having you back, Oliver, you can't stay on my couch for the rest of your life," Jefferson replied, "I know it probably seems daunting to you after being stranded on a desert island for five years, but you do have to figure out what you're going to do now."

"I guess I should find a job," Oliver observed with a chuckle, "Though that might be tough since I dropped out of high school, have a criminal record and have a five-year gap in my resume."

"Well, luckily for you, this is exactly the kind of thing I deal with all the time," Jefferson said as he rose to his feet, "So, why don't we go get started?"

Nodding his head, Oliver walked over and picked up his bag, looping it over his shoulder and following Jefferson as he headed out the door.

_Later_,

In a part of Star City where the Glades met the more populous and vibrant downtown area was a multistory club. Spotlights that at night would shine into the night sky flanked the main entrance while above the front doors was a yellow neon sign reading "The Birdcage Club."

As it was the middle of the day, the club was largely empty, containing only staff who were going about their business preparing the establishment to open that night. A large section of the first floor was taken up by a raised stage, upon which a band was setting up their equipment and tuning their instruments. The center of the room was occupied by a wooden dance floor, while the area surrounding it was occupied by tables and chairs. The second floor was open to the first, consisting of a large balcony with tables and chairs looking out over the first floor, except for above the stage, which had large windows that led into what appeared to be an office.

"Oliver," Jefferson said, snapping the young man out of his thoughts as he had been quietly taking in his surroundings, "This is the guy I wanted you to meet."

Looking towards the man Jefferson was indicating too, Oliver saw a man with a bald head and Latino features walking over to them. He was dressed in a black suit with a white button-up shirt and a pair of black sunglasses obscuring his eyes.

"Oliver, this is Hernan Alveraz," Jefferson explained, "He runs things here at the Club."

"Good to meet you, Oliver," the man said as he offered his hand to the young man, though his expression was completely neutral, almost bored, "Though Mr. Pierce should know that everyone around here calls me Shades."

Oliver nodded in reply as he shook Shades' offered hand.

"So, Mr. Pierce tells me you're looking for a job?" Shades questioned with a quirked eyebrow.

"Uh yeah," Oliver confirmed with a nod, "Though I don't really have a resume or anything."

"That's alright," Shades replied with a shrug, "You don't really need one for washing dishes. When can you start?"

"Oliver still needs to get settled in a bit," Jefferson explained, "Why not tomorrow?"

"Fine," Shades replied with another shrug, "Just get here an hour before we open and someone can show you the ropes."

As Oliver nodded in reply, Shades turned and swiftly walked away.

"Well, that was the easiest job interview I've ever had," Oliver joked.

"Yeah these under the table deals tend to be," Jefferson confirmed with a nod before he turned towards the entrance, "Come on, we still need to find you a place to stay."

"I thought that was you," a voice said, causing Jefferson to stop in his tracks.

Standing before Jefferson was a young woman roughly the same age as Oliver. She was slightly taller than Oliver, with caramel colored skin and an athletique physique. Her amber eyes were highlighted by the thick black eyeshadow and mascara she wore, while her lips were colored with black lipstick. The left side of her head was shaved down, while her hair hung down to her shoulder on her right side, woven into thick dreads that were alternatively colored coal black and canary yellow. She was dressed in a navy blue tank top under a black leather jacket, along with blue denim cutoff short shorts, black thigh high boots and fishnet stockings. Four black earrings ran around the rim of her left ear, with another in her right nostril, while her nails were painted black, except her ring fingers, which were bright yellow.

"What are you doing here, Jeff?" the woman questioned as she put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at Jefferson.

"I could ask you the same thing, Laurel," Jefferson replied neutrally.

There was a tense pause before Oliver raised his hand and gave a small wave.

"Hey, I'm Oliver," he said, his tone both friendly and awkward, "In case you were wondering."

The woman, Laurel, turned her gaze towards Oliver and studied him for a moment before turning her attention back to Jefferson.

"You know who runs this club, right?" Laurel asked.

"Yes, Laurel, I'm well aware who runs the Birdcage Club," Jefferson replied clearly agitated. At this point, Oliver noticed that some of the hairs on his arm had begun to stand on end.

"Man, you really don't stand for anything anymore, do you?" Laurel commented with a shake of her head before she turned her attention towards Oliver, "Be careful with this one. He'll let you down when it matters most."

With that, Laurel turned and walked away, leaving Jefferson to glare after her as she left.

"What was that about?" Oliver questioned as he looked at Jefferson.

"Ancient history," Jefferson grumbled before turning away and motioning for Oliver to follow him as he headed towards the door, "Come on, Oliver. Let's get out of here."

As Jefferson walked away, Oliver spared a final glance in Laurel's direction before following.

_Later_,

In a different part of the Glades, a boxy, five story building was crammed in amongst many others like it, with the name "Sherwood Apartments" stenciled over the door. Currently, Oliver and Jefferson stood in the lobby, a room with cement block walls covered in fading gray paint, dirty linoleum floors, and dim, yellow lighting.

Before Oliver was a large bulky man with a bald head and a black goatee. He was dressed in a crimson tracksuit with yellow lining and white sneakers. He was currently reading some papers attached to a clipboard that Oliver had just finished filling out.

"So, you understand leasing agreement, bro?" the man questioned, with an accent that Oliver could only identify as some flavor of Slavic.

"Uh, yeah, I get it," Oliver confirmed with a nod.

"Cool, bro, cool," the man replied with a nod, "Just make sure you get me rent at start of month, and we'll be a-okay, bro."

"Hey, uh, Ivan?" a voice spoke up, drawing Oliver's attention.

Looking towards the source of the voice, Oliver saw a teenage boy standing near the bottom of the stairs that led up to the apartments above. He was a tall but thin boy, with tanned skin and black hair that hung down to his shoulders, which he wore pulled back into a ponytail. He was dressed in baggy jeans and a dirty red hoodie. His brown eyes scanned the room nervously and Oliver noticed his brow was thick with sweat.

"Roy, bro, I'm in the middle of doing business here, bro," the man, Ivan, said as he angrily gestured towards Oliver and Jefferson, "What have I told you about interrupting my business, bro?"

"Sorry, sorry, I know," the teen, Roy, quickly apologized, averting his eyes as he scratched at his left arm, "I just, I need a fix, man."

"Business, bro!" Ivan exclaimed angrily as he continued gesturing at Oliver and Jefferson, "Besides, you're cut off, bro! Owe too much!"

"Come on, man, I need it!" Roy snapped, his previously timid posture suddenly turning aggressive as he took a step towards Ivan.

"Don't be talking like that to me, bro!" Ivan snarled as he whirled on Roy, closed the distance between them and grabbed the teen by the front of his sweatshirt, "You not like what happens!"

"Hey, hey, hey, whoa, whoa, whoa," a new voice said as a third man suddenly interposed himself between Ivan and Roy, prompting the taller man to let go of the teen's sweatshirt, "No need for that, guys."

Oliver blinked in surprise as he looked at the new arrival, having not even noticed his approach until the man was standing directly in front of him. The man was slightly older than Oliver, with a pale complexion and short, auburn hair. He stood slightly taller than Oliver, and had a wiry build over which he wore a navy blue suit with a red tie and brown leather shoes. The red sunglasses he wore and the white cane he carried immediately told Oliver that the man was blind.

"He's messing up my business, bro!" Ivan argued, "Talking back to me and stuff!"

"Look, I know how important your business is to you, Ivan," the man replied in a calm, measured tone as he tilted his head towards Ivan and flashed a charming smile, "But I'm sure Roy didn't mean anything by it, Right, Roy?"

"Y-Yeah, right," Roy replied, returning to his submissive body language as he looked down at his feet and scratched his left arm again, "S-sorry, man."

There was a pause as Ivan glanced between the man and Roy before snorting in contempt.

"Whatever, bro," Ivan said as he turned towards Oliver, fished in his pocket for a moment and tossed a key towards Oliver, "Your key, bro."

"Thanks," Oliver replied as he easily snatched the key out of the air.

"Rent?" Ivan questioned as he pointed one of his thick fingers at Oliver.

"Start of the month," Oliver answered with a shrug.

"Cool, bro, cool," Ivan replied with a nod and a thumbs up before he turned and walked through a door that Oliver assumed led to his office.

"You okay, Roy?" the man asked as he turned to face the teen.

"Yeah, man, I think so," Roy confirmed with an oblivious nod, "Thanks."

"No problem," the man replied with a shrug, "How about you take a walk? Maybe clear your head?"

"Y-Yeah," Roy agreed, "That sounds like a good idea."

With that, Roy headed towards the front door, sparing a glance towards Oliver and Jefferson before exiting the building.

"Is that you over there, Jeff?" the man asked as he turned his head in the vague direction of where Oliver and Jefferson were standing.

"Yeah, it's me," Jefferson confirmed with a smile as he walked over to the man.

"I can always trust our beloved community leader to be stuck in the middle of some sort of trouble," the man said with a grin as he held out his hand towards Jefferson, who laughed as he shook it, "So what brings you here?"

"I was getting my friend Oliver here settled in his new place," Jefferson explained as he looked at the young man over his shoulder and beckoned him over, "Oliver, I want you to come and meet a friend of mine."

Curious, Oliver walked over so he was standing next to Jefferson.

"Oliver, this is Matt Murdock," Jefferson said as he gestured at the man, "Matt, this is Oliver Smith."

"Nice to meet you, Oliver," Matt said with a friendly smile as he held his hand out towards the young man.

"It's nice to meet you too, Mr. Murdock," Oliver replied as he shook Matt's hand.

"Please, Matt is fine," Matt stated with a chuckle, "What do you do, Oliver?"

"I just got a job washing dishes actually," Oliver replied with a smirk, "You?"

"A friend of mine and I just opened our law practice, actually," Matt answered with a shrug.

"Wow, what's a hotshot lawyer like you doing here?" Oliver questioned as he gestured around at the apartment building.

"Well, I'm far from being a hotshot," Matt explained, "We don't even have any clients yet."

"Well, if I ever get arrested, I guess I'll know who to call," Oliver observed with a smirk.

"Alright, Oliver, I'd love to stand and chat with Matt all day," Jefferson spoke up as he checked his watch, "But I have some work I need to get done today, so how about we get you settled into your new apartment so I can take off?"

"I can do that, Jeff," Matt offered, "I don't have anywhere I need to be right now."

"Are you sure?" Jefferson questioned in surprise, "I don't want to impose."

"It will be fine," Matt replied with a dismissive wave of his hand, "I'm happy to show the new guy around. We're going to be neighbors, after all."

"Alright," Jefferson agreed with a nod before he turned his gaze towards Oliver, "See you around, Oliver?"

"Sure thing, Mr. Pierce," Oliver replied with a nod, watching as Jefferson turned and left with a wave.

"So, where are you staying?" Matt questioned as he began heading towards the stairs.

"Uh, Room 208," Oliver said as he looked at the tag attached to his key, "Should we take the elevator?"

"It's funny that you think that the elevator works," Matt said with a wry grin as he began climbing the stairs.

"So, where do you live?" Oliver questioned as he followed Matt up the stairs.

"Top floor," Matt answered, "In the penthouse."

"Penthouse?" Oliver asked with a laugh, "I thought you said you weren't a hotshot lawyer?"

"I got it at a sharp discount," Matt explained, "If you ever stop by, you'll see why."

By that point, they had reached the second floor and Matt began leading Oliver down the hall towards his apartment. As the pair reached the door to apartment 208, the door across the hall suddenly opened up and a young woman came rushing out, only to bump into Oliver.

"Oh!" the woman exclaimed as she dropped the laptop she had been carrying. With lightning fast reflexes, Oliver spun around and grabbed the laptop before it could hit the floor.

"Sorry about that," Oliver apologized as he held the laptop out to the woman. She was roughly the same age as Oliver, with bright blue eyes behind a pair of black, horn-rimmed glasses, long blonde hair that was dark brown at the roots and pulled back into a tight ponytail, pale features and a slim build. She was dressed in a grey hoodie under a black jacket, along with ripped black jeans and black boots, with an industrial piercing in her left ear.

"Nice, uh, nice hands," the young woman mumbled before her cheeks colored, "I mean nice catch! That is what I meant to say."

"Everything okay there, Felicity?" Matt questioned as he turned his head in the young woman's direction.

"Uh yeah, Matt, everything's great," the woman, Felicity, replied with a nervous smile as she turned her attention towards Matt, "Who's your friend?"

As the words left Felicity's mouth, a look of embarrassment passed over her features as she turned her attention back towards Oliver.

"Or I could just ask you, since you're, you know, standing directly in front of me and everything," Felicity said with a nervous chuckle.

"Oliver Smith," Oliver replied with an amused smile as he held the laptop out to Felicity.

"Felicity Smoak," Felicity replied as she took the laptop, tucked it under her arm and shook Oliver's hand, "It's uh, nice to meet you. Did you just move in?"

"Yeah, Matt was just showing me around," Oliver answered with a shrug.

"Well, I guess I should let you get back too that," Felicity said with an awkward smile as she began heading down the hallway towards the stairs, "It was, uh, nice to meet you neighbor!"

"Felicity?" Matt called after the young woman.

"Can you keep an eye out for Roy?" Matt requested, "It seems like he's….having one of his bad days."

"Oh, yeah, sure," Felicity agreed with a nod.

"Thanks," Matt replied, prompting Felicity to turn and head down the hall with a final friendly wave towards Oliver.

"Ready to see your new apartment?" Matt questioned as he turned his head and smiled at Oliver.

"Uh yeah, sure," Oliver replied uncertainly as he took out his key and inserted it into the door's lock, "Hey, Matt, can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Matt replied as Oliver unlocked the door and pushed it open.

"What, uh, what's up with Roy?" Oliver inquired, "I can tell he's dealing with something but, well I'm not sure what."

"Roy's…." Matt began hesitantly, "Roy's got a bit of a drug problem. I-I know how that sounds, but Roy is a pretty good guy, which is why some of us try to watch out for him. He's just dealing with a lot of issues, is all."

"I get it," Oliver assured Matt, "I….I knew some guys growing up who went through that kind of stuff. What is it, heroin or something?"

"Vertigo," Matt replied.

"W-What?" Oliver questioned, blinking in shock.

"Yeah, I guess if you're new in town, you probably wouldn't have heard of it," Matt observed, "Vertigo is this new drug that hit the streets of Star City just a few years ago. Some kind of hallucinogenic that gets people hooked really bad."

"That….That sounds awful," Oliver mumbled as his face went pale.

"You alright, Oliver?" Matt questioned as his brow furrowed, "You don't sound too good."

"I-I'm fine," Oliver lied, "Just uh, just tired from everything I had to take care of today."

"I get you," Matt replied as he nodded towards the apartment door, "Why don't you get settled in to your new place?"

"Yeah, sure," Oliver agreed with a nod, "I'll see you late…."

Oliver trailed off as he realized what he had said, causing Matt to chuckle.

"It's alright, Oliver," Matt assured him, "I'll see you later."

With that, Matt turned away and made his way back down the hall. Oliver watched as Matt left before stepping into his new apartment.

The short hallway that lay just beyond the door led into the combination kitchen and living room that was bare except for a few appliances built into the kitchen walls. Walking through the small door that led into the bedroom, where he threw his duffle bag onto the bare dirty mattress that sat on the floor.

As the bag thumped onto the mattress, a concerned expression spread over Oliver's face as his left hand began shaking. Clenching his hand into a fist, Oliver got the shaking under control. Grabbing his left sleeve, Oliver pulled it up, revealing his arm and the scars of numerous injections centered around the bend of his elbow. As he looked at the marks, a haunted expression came over his face as he was swallowed up by his memories.

_Five years ago_

Oliver stumbled onto the simple wooden dock as he was shoved off the boat from behind, barely managing to catch himself as he fell to his knees with his hands bound behind his back.

"Leave him alone!" Robert shouted as he shoulder checked the man who had pushed Oliver despite his own hands bound as well.

"Now, now," China White said as she walked up and grabbed Robert's shoulder before spinning him around and driving her knee into his guts, "None of that."

Grabbing Robert by the back of his shirt as he wheezed in pain, China White shoved him off of the boat as well, causing Robert to land on his face next to Oliver.

"Robert!" Oliver called as his father groaned in pain, "Hey man, are you okay?"

"Get them up," China White ordered as she stepped off the boat, prompting her men to grab Robert and Oliver and pull them roughly to their feet.

"Come on," China White said, motioning for her men to follow her as she made her way down the dock, prompting the armed thugs to force Oliver and Robert to follow her, "We don't want to keep the Professor waiting."

Walking down the dock, Oliver saw that it led to the sandy shores of the island. The beach was cut off from the rest of the island by tall, rocky cliffs that loomed above them, the top of which Oliver could see were covered with tropical trees. A number of other armed men, dressed in tank tops and shorts due to the tropical weather, loitered around the area, including a pair who were flanking a thick iron door that was set into a concrete structure jutting from the cliff.

As the group approached, one of the men opened the door for them, the hinges squeaking loudly as it swung open. Beyond the door was a long corridor made of bare concrete and illuminated by bare lightbulbs that had been strung along the upper corners. Eventually, the group reached another metal door, which China White opened before stepping inside.

The room beyond seemed old and disused, containing nothing more than a pair of metal chairs that sat facing each other, bolted to the floor, with a single light bulb hanging from a wire dangling between them and leather straps attached to the arms. Pushing them into the room, the men roughly sat Oliver and Robert in the chairs and secured their arms with the straps, while China White closed the door behind them.

"What is the meaning of all this!?" Robert demanded as he glared at China White, "Who are you people!?"

"Don't worry, Mr. Queen," China White replied, her voice full of false sincerity, "I'm sure the Professor will have the answers you're looking for."

At that point, a soft knocking came from the door.

"Speak of the devil," China White said as she walked over to the door and opened it, "Good evening, Professor."

As China White stepped to the side, a man entered the room. He was a tall man with pale features and a rail thin form with lanky limbs. He was surprisingly well dressed, wearing a dark purple suit with matching tie, along with a white button-up shirt and shiny black shoes. His features were gaunt, with dark brown, deep set eyes behind a pair of glasses that perched on his long, hooked nose, and a pinched mouth. His lanky black hair had been carefully combed and he carried an old fashioned, black doctor's bag with him into the room.

"Good evening, Ms. Na Wei," the man greeted with a quiet voice, stepping to the side as another of China White's men brought a third chair into the room and placed between Robert and Oliver.

"I have them all set up for you," China White stated as she gestured towards Oliver and Robert.

"I see," the man replied as he looked at Robert and Oliver, a small, creepy smile forming on his features, "Thank you, Ms. Na Wei. Please close the door as you leave."

"Actually, I was hoping to stay," China White replied with a predatory grin, "I like to watch."

"As you wish," the man replied with a nod, walking towards the empty chair as China White's men left the room and closed the door behind them.

"Good evening," the man said as he sat in the chair while resting his bag in his lap, "My name is Professor Jonathan Crane."

"It's nice to finally meet you, Mr. Queen," the man, Crane, continued as he looked at Robert before shifting his gaze towards Oliver, "I'm not sure who you are though."

"That's Oliver," Robert answered, bringing Crane's attention back to him, "My son."

There was a pause as Crane stared at Robert for a moment.

"I'm sure there are some who would find that interesting and scandalous," Crane said with a dispassionate tone, "Though it does raise a few questions for me. Do you share the same blood type? Any history of addiction in your family?"

"What is this!?" Robert snapped as he glared at Crane and China White, "Who are you people!? What do you want!?"

"Yes, I suppose you find this all very confusing," Crane concluded with a nod, "But, I'm not really interested in explaining myself to you at this time. All you need to know is that you're advancing the cause of science."

"Science?" Oliver asked in confusion, "What science?"

At Oliver's prompting, Crane opened his bag and retrieved a syringe and a vial. Inside the vial was a liquid that almost seemed to glow with a sickly yellow color.

"This was derived from a rare plant known to grow only on this island," Crane explained almost off-handedly as he inserted the needle of his syringe into the vial and extracted some of the contents, "When inserted into the bloodstream, it quickly targets the part of the brain responsible for the fear response, leading to increased heart rate, paranoia and vivid hallucinations, though at current the effects haven't been fully studied. I've heard the men refer to it as Vertigo."

Crane paused speaking for a moment as he held the syringe up and tested it.

"I misnomer to be sure, but I suppose it's a catchy name," Crane commented as he stood up and turned his attention towards Robert and Oliver, "Now, which one of you would like to go first?"

"You think I'm going to let you inject us with that shit after what you just told us!?" Oliver demanded as he looked at Crane incredulously, "Are you insane!?"

Crane looked at Oliver quietly for a moment before another one of his creepy smirks spread across his face again.

"Thank you for volunteering," Crane stated as he stood up and moved towards Oliver.

"Get away from him!" Robert shouted with anger and fear, "Get the hell away from my son!"

"Don't you touch me!" Oliver shouted as he tried to lean as far away from Crane as his chair would allow, "Don't put that shit in my arm, you-!"

Oliver cut himself off with a grunt of pain as Crane grabbed his left arm, rolled up the sleeve of his sweatshirt and stuck the needle into the bend of his elbow. His eyes wide, Oliver stared at the needle as Crane injected the Vertigo into his system.

"There," Crane said as he pulled the empty needle out and made his way back to his chair, "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Oliver said nothing as he looked down at the small wound in his arm, watching as blood oozed out as his heart thundered in his chest.

"Now, tell me how you're feeling," Crane said, drawing Oliver's attention to him as he sat in his chair and pulled out a notebook and pen, "And please, be as detailed as possible. This is for science, after all."

A/N: Another fun chapter! Was happy to get a chance to introduce most of the story's other major characters as well as delve into an interesting bit of Oliver's backstory. Tell me what you thought! As always, feedback and critiques are always welcome, so please review! Later!


	4. Survival

**Chapter 4: Survival**

The next day, the sun shone brightly over a disused park at the heart of the Glades. Overgrown plants hung over the cracked pavement of the paths that snaked through the park, while garbage overflowed from the trash cans and homeless men and women camped on the disused benches.

Walking through the park, Roy looked around with a nervous expression, chewing his nails in agitation. Even though Roy practically had his head on a swivel however, he still failed to notice Oliver trailing him, the young man wearing his ratty green hoodie with the hood pulled up. As Oliver followed, Roy walked off the path into an overgrown field shaded by trees. Oliver paused at the spot Roy walked off the path, but didn't follow, instead finding a bench from which he could still see the teenager and sitting on it.

As Oliver watched, Roy walked to the shadiest area of the field and waited, looking around nervously. A moment later, a man dressed in a black hoodie with the hood pulled up walked up to Roy. The two of them talked for a few moments, their conversation quickly becoming more and more heated.

"Look man, I just need a fix!" Roy suddenly shouted, loud enough that Oliver could hear.

"Back off now, kid," the other man snarled, "I know you haven't paid up with Ivan. I'm not giving a damn thing until I see some cash."

For a moment, Oliver was worried that the two of them were about to come to blows, but then a young woman suddenly ran up and interposed herself between the two young men.

"Hey, hey, hey!" the young woman called, "No need for any of that, guys!"

As Oliver got a good look at the young woman, he felt his heart skip a beat. It had been years since he had seen a picture of her, and she was both noticeably older and taller now, but there was no mistaking who the young woman was.

Mia Queen, Oliver's sister.

"Mind your own business," the man in the black hoodie snarled as he glared at Mia.

"Well, I mean, if we're talking business," Mia said as she pulled a large wad of cash out of her pocket and held it up for the man to see, "Then we can do business."

"Look, I'm happy to do business with you," the man in the hoodie replied as he looked at Mia, "But he owes money to someone else."

"But if I buy some for the both of us, you could tell your boss or whoever that you never saw him," Mia explained, "We get what we want, and you get to make some money. Everyone wins."

The man in the hoodie eyed both Roy and Mia hesitantly for a moment.

"Come on," Mia pressed as she wiggled the money in front of the man, "You know you want it."

"Fine," the man relented as he snatched the money out of Mia's hand. Putting the money in the pocket of his hoodie, he rummaged around for a moment before pulling out two vials containing a yellow liquid and handing them to Mia.

"Pleasure doing business with you," Mia said with a grin as she took the vials, prompting the man in the hoodie to nod at her before walking away.

As Mia turned to talk to Roy, Oliver watched as he began clenching and unclenching his left hand rapidly. A look of determination on his face, Oliver rose to his feet and began walking towards where Roy and Mia were talking. Before he could even get close though, he was stopped as someone stepped into his path.

Looking up at the person, Oliver saw that he was a tall, African-American man with broad shoulders and a muscular physique. He had dark brown eyes and black hair cut in a crew cut. He wore a black suit with a white, button-up shirt, a black tie, and black leather shoes.

"Can I help you, sir?" the man questioned, his voice deep and controlled.

"I just wanted to walk over there," Oliver answered as he gestured towards the field where Mia and Roy were still talking.

"Not while my client is over there," the man responded.

"You her bodyguard or something?" Oliver inquired.

"Something like that," the man answered, "Though I'm starting to wonder who you might be?"

"If you're her bodyguard, why are you letting her put that poison in her system?" Oliver asked, completely ignoring the man's own question.

"What Ms. Queen does for….recreation isn't any of my business," the man replied, his eyes narrowing at Oliver, "Nor is it yours. Who are you?"

"Me?" Oliver questioned as he smirked at the man and backed away, "I'm nobody important."

With that, Oliver turned away and headed back the way he had come. The man watched Oliver as he walked away, before Mia and Roy approached him from behind.

"Hey, Dig," Mia spoke up, bringing the man's attention away from Oliver, "I'm all done here. Everything okay?"

"Yes," the man, Dig, replied as he glanced back towards Oliver, only to find that the young man had disappeared, "Everything is fine, Ms. Queen."

"Cool," Mia said with a nod, "I know the bums can get kind of pushy around here. Anyway, we're going to give my new friend Roy here a ride back to my place so that we can have some fun. Sound good?"

"If that's what you want, Ms. Queen," Dig answered with a nod.

"Awesome," Mia replied as she looped her arm around one of Roy's and began leading the young man away, "Come on, Roy. The car is this way."

As Mia and Roy walked away, Dig watched them go for a moment, a concerned expression on his face before he sighed, shook his head and followed behind them.

_Later_,

The kitchens of the Birdcage Club were a noisy, cluttered affair, but the floors and countertops were clean and the staff went about their tasks in an orderly fashion. Oliver, with a white apron on over his black t-shirt and jeans, stood in front of a large sink filled with hot water and soap bubbles, where he was attempting to clean a dish as quickly as possible with a wet dishrag.

A commotion from behind Oliver caught his attention and he turned to see Shades enter the room accompanied by another man. The other man was a middle aged African-American with a lanky build and a bald head, though he sported a pair of bushy, white eyebrows and a matching Fu Manchu mustache. The man was dressed in a purple, button-up shirt underneath a vest that sported a design that reminded Oliver of the scales of a diamondback rattlesnake. The man also wore a pair of fine, black pants and cowboy boots that seemed to be made out of some kind reptile hide. He carried a black cane with him, though it seemed to be entirely ornamental, topped with a silver head molded to look like a hissing snake.

"Good evening, everybody!" the man exclaimed with a loud, jovial voice, "I just wanted to see how my amazing kitchen staff was doing tonight."

From there, the man walked around the kitchen, stopping to briefly chat with each of the workers in turn, prompting Oliver to turn his attention back towards the dishes he was washing. A few minutes later, Oliver noted the man and Shades walking over to him.

"Well, well, well, looks like we got a new face in here today," the man said with a charming smile as he offered his hand to Oliver, "And who might you be, young man?"

"Oliver Smith, sir," Oliver replied as he quickly dried off his hands and shook the man's, "I'm the new dishwasher."

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Oliver Smith," the man replied with a wide grin, "My name is Cornell Stokes, and I run this fine establishment."

Now that the man was up close and smiling at him, Oliver was surprised to see that all of his teeth had been replaced by grey, metal fangs. Seeing Oliver's surprise, the man let out a loud, boisterous laugh.

"Admiring my grill, son?" the man questioned as he gestured at his teeth with the head of his cane, "Had my teeth knocked out in my youth, and when the dentist replaced them, I had him put in these beauties. People have called me Cottonmouth ever since."

Seeing Oliver's look of trepidation at this, Cottonmouth let out another loud laugh.

"Don't worry, son," Cottonmouth reassured Oliver as he patted the young man on the shoulder while walking away from him, "I don't bite my employees as long as they do a good job."

After Cottonmouth had walked away, Shades pulled him to a stop a short distance away, speaking in a low voice that was nonetheless loud enough that Oliver could hear them even as he went back to cleaning dishes.

"So, have we cleared up all of our problems with the merchandise?" Cottonmouth questioned.

"Mostly," Shades admitted with a nod, "Ivan has a customer that's been giving him trouble. He's trying to collect the money, but it's not looking good."

"Well, tell Ivan to do what he can to collect the money, but if he has to, he has my permission to write off the debt," Cottonmouth answered, "It's not as good as cash, but sometimes you just need to send a message."

"I'll pass it along," Shades confirmed with a nod while Oliver returned his focus to the dirty dishes before him, a concerned expression on his face.

_Later_,

As he made his way up to the Sherwood Apartment building late that night, Oliver wore the same concerned expression on his face. His expression only turned more severe as he reached the door and heard muffled, but clearly agitated voices on the other side.

"Now, please calm down, Ivan," Oliver could hear Matt saying on the other side of the door.

"Don't tell me to calm down, bro!" Ivan angrily snapped, "This bro is messing up my business and I'm not going to stand for it anymore!"

"Look man, I promise you, I'll get the money," Roy groaned, and from the tone of his voice, Oliver suspected that the young man had been injured in some way.

"I'm done with your empty promises, bro!" Ivan shouted, "I'm here to collect!"

"B-But he just said he doesn't have any money!" Felicity's voice came, causing Oliver's eyes to go wide in surprise.

"I'm here for something else, bro," Ivan explained, "I'm here for my pound of flesh, bro."

"Pound of…." Matt's began to say, confusion and horror coming through in his voice in equal measure, "Ivan, I don't know what you're thinking, but I promise you can't collect money from a corpse."

"Maybe so, bro, maybe so," Ivan admitted, a dangerous edge entering his voice, "But the big boss said that if I can't collect on the money bro, then I should make an example of the bro, so that all the other bros in this city know not to mess with us!"

"Oh my God," Felicity whispered in horror.

"Look, Ivan, let's talk about this," Matt said nervously.

"No, bro, we're done talking!" Ivan snapped, "We're going to settle this like men, bro."

His eyes narrowing, a grim look settled onto Oliver's face. Hustling away from the door, Oliver circled around the building until he found the old, iron fire escape that was attached to the building. Running towards the fire escape, Oliver saw that the ladder at its end was retracted, leaving a ten foot gap between the bottom of the ladder and the ground. Running up to the wall next to the fire escape, Oliver jumped at it, planted one foot against the bricks and vaulted off, easily rising high enough into the air to grab the fire escape's handrail and nimbly pull himself up onto it.

After racing up the fire escape, Oliver reached the window that led into his bedroom and managed to wedge it open from the outside. Slipping in, Oliver ran over to where his old duffle bag sat on the floor. Opening it, Oliver hesitated for a moment as he stared down at its contents.

Reaching into the bag, Oliver retrieved a worn, wooden bow that looked like it had been crafted by hand from whatever had been available at the time. Grabbing the bowstring with his other hand and tested it, finding that the bow still pulled the string back and held it, a look of determination in his grey eyes.

_Five years earlier_,

Oliver had no idea how long he had been strapped to the chair. Hours? Days? Weeks? Time had lost all meaning for Oliver. But the waking nightmares he had experienced were still fresh in his mind. The feeling of tens of thousands of spiders crawling all over his body. The taste of dirt in his mouth after being buried alive. The smell of his own flesh cooking as he was roasted over a fire. All of these and more were seared into his memory.

Blinking his eyes, Oliver felt his vision clear as he looked around the room. He was pretty sure what he was seeing was real this time as he took in the sight of the same concrete room that he had been in when this nightmare had started. He was currently slouched in his metal chair, his wrist burning from where they chafed against the leather bindings. Slowly, Oliver's gaze fell onto his left arm, which he could see was riddled with marks from being injected, all of which were in various stages of healing.

"My, my, Mr. Queen," Oliver heard Crane say, "It would seem that you're having an adverse reaction to the latest formula."

Lifting his head up, Oliver looked over at where Crane was hovering over Robert. His bleary eyes focusing, Oliver could see that Robert looked as bad as the young man felt, his hair messy and matted with sweat, while the sleeve of his shirt had been rolled up, showing that his left arm was as covered in as many puncture marks as Oliver's own.

Crane, who had been listening to Robert's chest with a stethoscope, lowered the instrument from his ears and sat back in his chair.

"A shame," Crane commented with a sigh as he put the stethoscope into his black bag, "It's so hard to find good subjects these days. At the very least though, we can use your autopsy to find out what went wrong."

Standing up, Crane leaned over and rested his hand on Robert's shoulder.

"Thank you for your contribution to science," Crane said before he turned and exited the room.

"Robert?" Oliver spoke up, his voice raspy due to how raw his throat felt, "Robert, are you-"

Oliver was cut off as Robert began coughing violently. After a few moments, Robert spat out a glob of blood onto the floor and raised his gaze to look at Oliver, his eyes managing to focus on the young man.

"These people…." Robert wheezed, sounding like he was struggling to breath, "They're going to kill you. We have to get….to get out of here."

"I don't think either of us are going anywhere," Oliver replied as he pulled at his bonds.

As Robert thought over what Oliver had said, he groggily turned his head towards where his left hand was bound. As Oliver watcher, Robert arranged two of his fingers above the joint of his thumb, took a deep breath and pushed down sharply. With a sickening crack, Robert dislocated his thumb, causing him to gasp in pain.

"W-What are you doing!?" Oliver questioned, his eyes wide with shock.

"It's a trick your mother taught me," Robert explained as he managed to wiggle his left hand free of his bonds before popping his thumb back into place with another strangled cry of pain.

With his hand now free, Robert quickly went about releasing his other hand. Once that was done, Robert rose shakily to his feet, looking like he would collapse at any moment. Clutching at his chest, Robert stumbled over to Oliver's chair, and began freeing the young man's hands as torrents of sweat poured down his face.

"Can….Can you stand?" Robert questioned once he was finished, staggering back a step in order to give Oliver some room.

"I think so," Oliver replied, before he pushed himself onto his unsteady feet.

"Alright," Robert said with a nod, before he turned towards the door, "Then we need-"

Before Robert could finish, he descended into a fit of wracking coughs, drops of blood staining his chin as his legs buckled underneath him. Stumbling over to Robert, Oliver did his best to hold the older man up, but his arms proved too weak to support Robert as he collapsed to the concrete floor.

"Robert!" Oliver gasped he helped the older man lay on his back, "Roger, are you okay!?"

"No," Robert replied as he continued clutching at his chest, his eyes shut tight in pain, "Feel like my chest is on fire."

"Come on," Oliver said as he tried to pick Robert off of the ground, "We have to get you out of here."

Grunting in effort, Oliver attempted to help Robert back to his feet, but his arms proved too tired and weak from the abuse he had suffered to lift the older man, and instead Oliver ended up sitting on the floor catching his breath as Robert continued to lay on his back.

"You need to leave me behind, Oliver," Robert said after a moment.

"What?" Oliver questioned as he looked at Robert in confusion, "What are you talking about? There's no way in Hell that I'm leaving you behind!"

"Oliver….son….I'm finished," Robert said as he turned his head to look at the young man, "Whatever that madman gave me, it-"

Robert paused as he began coughing violently, rolling over so he could spit another glob of blood onto the floor.

"Oliver, this can't be the end for you," Robert went on, "You need to get out of here. You….you need to figure out how to stop these people. You need to survive…."

As Robert spoke, his voice grew weaker and weaker, his eyes fluttering as the older man fought to keep them open.

"Oliver….I'm sorry I was never there….for you…." Robert went on, his head slowly slumping towards the floor, "I'm sorry….for bringing you here….sorry….for everything…."

With that, Robert's eyes closed and he fell silent, his head resting against the concrete floor. Oliver looked at the older man with wide eyes, unsure of what to do. Carefully, he reached out and placed his hand on Robert's shoulder.

"Robert?" Oliver questioned as he gently shook the older man's shoulder.

Robert made no reply.

"...Dad?" Oliver whispered, a desperate note to his voice.

Robert stayed silent, and even though the man's chest continued to rise and fall slowly, Oliver knew that his father was gone. Balling his hands into fists, Oliver fought against the angry tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks. He had been alone for so long, and now, just when it seemed like he would finally have a family of his own, it was ripped away from him, seemingly for no reason. Angrily wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, Oliver's gaze turned towards the chair that Crane had been using while he conducted his sick "experiments" on them, and he thought of what Robert had told him.

He had to survive.

Outside of the room, two of the men that had taken Oliver and Robert hostage stood lounging against the wall on either side of the door, ostensibly on guard, though in truth, both of them were barely paying attention to their surroundings. Suddenly, the door to the room banged open, slamming into the man standing on the left side of the door. As the guard on the right started in surprise, Oliver stepped out of the room, holding Crane's chair above his head by the back. Swinging the chair, Oliver smashed it against the guard to his right, causing him to bounce off the wall and crumple to the floor. As the two guards tried to recover from the surprise attack, Oliver tossed the chair onto the floor and went stumbling down the hallway as fast as he could.

As the guards screamed after him in a language the young man did not understand, Oliver ran down the dirty concrete hallway. As he reached a point where the corridor reached another one that ran perpendicular to the one he was in. Turning down one of the corridors, Oliver was quickly forced to double back as he spotted another pair of guards running down the corridor towards him. At the end of the other corridor was a narrow concrete staircase that led up.

As Oliver started up the stairs, the guards who were chasing him caught up, one of them reaching out and grabbing the young man by the leg, tripping him up. Grunting in pain as he fell onto the stairs, Oliver quickly twisted around and kicked the guard in the chest with his free foot, knocking him back into his fellow guard, forcing him to release Oliver's leg as they both fell to the floor. Raising back to his feet, Oliver spun around and continued making his way up the stairs.

At the top of the stairs was a metal door which Oliver quickly reached and pushed through. Beyond the door, Oliver found himself outside the structure, with concrete ground that extended a short distance before giving way to jungles so thick that Oliver couldn't see anything beyond the first few trees. Oliver's vision was also hampered by the fact that night had fallen and rain was pouring down, though every few moments, the night was illuminated by flashes of lightning, allowing Oliver to see a few buildings scattered about.

Stumbling to a stop on the wet concrete, Oliver found six more men dressed in olive green ponchos standing before him, all of whom quickly spun around and pointed their guns at the young man. His eyes wide, Oliver attempted to double back, only to find the two guards who had been chasing him blocking his path with their weapons raised.

As the men began shouting at him and gesturing at him aggressively with their guns, Oliver slowly raised his hands above his head before lowering himself to his knees while looking down at the ground. While the other guards covered Oliver with their guns, one of the men in front of him walked up to the young man and moved to grab him. Before the man could lay a hand on Oliver though, the young man heard a sharp whistle accompanied by a meaty thwack, followed by a long silence. Raising his head, Oliver saw that the guard who had been approaching him was now standing stock still with an arrow protruding from his chest. The man looked at the arrow in confusion for a moment before he toppled over backwards.

The shock of seeing their comrade fall spurred the seven other men into action. Spinning towards the dark jungle that loomed before them, the men began pointing their guns in every direction, trying to figure out where the arrow had come from. Suddenly, there was another whistling sound as something imeded itself in the ground at the center of the group. Looking at it, they all saw that the object was another arrow with a blinking light on the shaft. As they all looked at it, the arrow suddenly exploded in a bright flash of light, causing the group to cry out in alarm as they were blinded.

Blinking his eye rapidly, Oliver looked around as his eyesight slowly returned to him. Before him, Oliver could see three more of the guards were now on the ground, arrows protruding from various parts of their bodies. Standing over them was a figure that Oliver was having a hard time seeing through the gloom of the rainy night. Oliver assumed the figure was a man, due to the person's height and the broad width of their shoulders. Most of the man's body was covered by a purple poncho, his face obscured by a hood. Oliver could see black combat boots covered the man's feet and long, black, fingerless gloves on his hands. A highly advanced, purple compound bow was clasped in his left hand and Oliver could make out a quiver peeking over the man's shoulder.

By that point, the four remaining guards had regained their wits and pointed their guns at the man. With lightning reflexes, the man drew an arrow, nocked it and fired it at one of the guards, hitting the man in the knee. As the guard fell to his good knee, screaming in pain, the man rolled across the ground towards him, avoiding the hail of bullets as the other guards opened fire on him. Rising up, the man spun around and hooked his foot around the guard's neck before yanking it down, slamming the guard's head against the ground as he fell to one knee.

Drawing and nocking a second arrow, the man fired it at another guard, piercing the guard's hand and forcing him to drop his gun. Rushing forward, the man dropkicked the injured man in the chest, knocking him into the guard behind him and sending them both falling to the ground.

Seeing how easily his comrades had been taken out, the remaining guard quickly turned and fled as the man kicked himself back to his feet. Aiming his bow at the fleeing guard, the man drew and nocked an arrow that ended in a two-pronged device instead of a normal arrow head. Loosing the arrow, the man struck the fleeing guard in the back, causing him to fall to the ground and begin convulsing as jolts of electricity shot off the arrow.

Suddenly, Oliver was grabbed roughly from behind as one of the guards that the man had knocked down rose back to his feet, wrapped his arm around Oliver's throat and put the barrel of a pistol against the young man's head. With the same lightning fast reflexes Oliver had seen him use earlier in the fight, the man spun and faced Oliver and the guard, pointing an arrow directly at the other man's face, prompting him to try and hide behind Oliver as best he could.

The guard shouted something at the man with the bow in a language that Oliver didn't speak. The man with the bow, however, had no such problem, and to the best Oliver could tell, replied in the same language with a cool and calm voice. The two exchanged words for a few moments, the guard growing increasingly agitated with every passing second. Suddenly, the guard leaned forward and shouted something at the man with the bow, which is exactly what he had been waiting for.

Loosing the arrow he had been holding, the man struck the guard right between the eyes. Jerking his head back, the guard fell limply to the ground, releasing the grip he had on Oliver, causing the young man to stumble forwards and gasp in surprise. Feeling as though he had no strength left, Oliver fell to his hands and knees,

As Oliver tried to collect himself, a pair of black boots appeared in his line of sight. Slowly lifting his head, Oliver looked up at the man with the bow as he loomed over him. As the man looked down at Oliver, he pulled his hood back, revealing short, spikey blond hair, blue eyes and Caucasian features, with a worried expression on his face.

"Okay," the man said with a sigh, "This looks bad."

A/N: Had a lot of fun with this one, obviously this is a reveal that I've had in mind for a while and I'm excited to show you all what happens in the next chapter. Hope you all enjoyed it as well! As always, feedback and critiques are always welcome so please review! Later!


	5. The Man in the Hood

**Chapter 5: The Man in the Hood**

Roy Harper kneeled on the floor of the Sherwood Apartments' lobby, blood flowing from his broken nose and the barrel of a gun pressed to the back of his head. Ivan, who was holding the gun, loomed above the young man, while half a dozen other men, all with Slavic features and dressed in tracksuits. Two of these men were holding onto Matt while a third had a tight grip on Felicity's shoulder, keeping either of them from interfering.

"Any last words, bro?" Ivan questioned as he looked down at Roy.

Roy's only response was to let out a terrified sob.

"Don't do this, Ivan!" Matt shouted as he struggled against the two men holding him, "I can get you the money!"

"It's not about the money now, bro," Ivan replied as he looked at Matt while making a motion with his free hand, causing one of the thugs holding Matt to punch him in the gut, doubling him over, "It's about sending a message."

Looking back at Roy, Ivan pressed the gun harder against the young man's head and moved his finger to the trigger.

And then a knock came from the elevator door.

His brow furrowing in confusion, Ivan looked over at the elevator, as did everyone else in the room.

"Bro, I thought you said the elevator was broken?" one of the thugs questioned.

"It is, bro," Ivan insisted, "It must be rat or some-"

Ivan was interrupted by a series of knocks coming from the door in the rhythm of "Shave and A Haircut." Silence fell over the room as Ivan and his men looked at one another in bafflement.

"Bro," Ivan said as he pointed at one of his men who wasn't occupied with Matt and Felicity, "Go see what it is."

"Okay, bro," the man agreed with a nod before he made his way over to the elevator. Managing to wedge his fingers into the gap between the elevator doors, the thug forced them apart with a grunt of effort. Once the doors were open wide enough, the man looked into the elevator shaft as an expression of confusion crossed his features.

"What the-" the man started to say but was cut off as a figure came flying out of the shaft and struck him on the head, sending the man falling backwards as the figure landed on the floor of the lobby in a crouched position.

Standing up, the figure revealed themself to be dressed in a torn, dirty green hoodie and worn jeans with black sneakers on their feet. Brown leather gloves covered their lower arms and a quiver strapped to their back, with a makeshift bow in their left hand. Lifting his head, Oliver scanned the room with his grey eyes, his features obscured by a raised hood and green cloth mask wrapped around his lower face.

"Who the hell are you, bro?" Ivan questioned as everyone looked at Oliver with a mixture of amazement and confusion.

"Just a concerned citizen," Oliver answered with a shrug, before he drew and nocked an arrow, pointing it at Ivan.

"Bro, is that a bow and arrow?" Ivan asked with an incredulous laugh, "Are you joking, bro?"

In response, Oliver loosed the arrow, striking Ivan's pistol and knocking it out of the man's hand, sending it sliding across the ground.

"Don't knock it until you've tried it, bro," Oliver said with a shrug.

"Get that bro!" Ivan shouted as he pointed at Oliver, prompting his men to charge towards Oliver. As the first one reached him, Oliver ducked low and struck the man on the knee with his bow. Turning towards a second thug, Oliver quickly slapped the man across the face with his bow before turning back to the first man and doing the same to him. With both thugs stunned, Oliver looped his bow around the second one's neck and used it to flip the man onto his back, before swinging his bow low and knocking the first thug's feet out from under him and finishing him with a stomp to the stomach to ensure he stayed down.

Spinning around, Oliver hurled his bow at one of the charging men, striking him in the face and stunning him. At the same time, Oliver rushed towards a different thug and threw himself bodily at the man, wrapping his arms and legs around him before using his momentum to throw the man to the floor, the thug rolling to a stop in front of the man Oliver had thrown his bow at. Kicking himself back to his feet, Oliver rushed over to the man he had thrown his bow at and dropkicked him in the chest, sending the thug sprawling, then elbow dropping onto the man on the ground, hitting him square in the stomach and leaving him writhing on the ground in pain.

Noticing two more thugs rushing him from either side, Oliver rolled across the ground, picking his bow up as he did. Drawing an arrow, Oliver fired it at the thug in front of him, hitting the man in the knee. As the thug cried out in pain and fell to his good knee, Oliver rushed him, the other thug chasing right after him. Reaching the first man, Oliver planted a foot on the thug's chest before using him to flip backwards, kicking the thug on the chin as he did. As Oliver flipped through the air, he planted his hands on the shoulders of the thug running up behind him. Using the thug as a pivot point, Oliver swung his legs down and planted them against the man's back before kicking off again, flipping further into the air. As he hung in the air, Oliver drew an arrow and nocked it on his bowstring. Aiming at the thug he had just launched off of, Oliver fired the arrow and hit the man in the rear, causing him to squeal in pain before he tripped over the first man and went sprawling across the ground.

Having retrieved his gun, Ivan spun around to point it at Oliver, only to see all of his men laying on the ground unconscious or in pain. Shocked, Ivan quickly turned towards Oliver as he heard the young man draw and aim an arrow at him, quickly leveling his gun at the archer.

"I think this is the point where you surrender, bro," Oliver said as he stared Ivan dead in the eye.

"W-Who the hell are you, bro?" Ivan asked, his gun shaking in his hand.

"My name…." Oliver began to say with a serious tone before he cut himself off with a snort of derision, "Is none of your goddamn business."

With that, Oliver fired the arrow, which shot towards Ivan. Flinching and closing his eyes, Ivan instinctively pulled the trigger on his gun, only to receive nothing more than a broken sounding click in reply. Opening his eyes, Ivan looked down at his gun and was shocked to find Oliver's arrow sticking out of the barrel.

Looking back at Oliver, Ivan saw that the archer was walking towards him, prompting him to begin backing away towards the door of his office. Rushing forward, Oliver leapt into the air and slammed his knee into Ivan's face, the blow snapping the man's head back and knocking him off his feet. Ivan flew through the air a short distance before he crashed through the door to his office, landing on the floor in a shower of splinters.

As Ivan lay on the floor, groaning in pain, Oliver walked up and stood looking down at the prone man.

"What do you want, bro?" Ivan asked groggily.

"What I wanted was for you not to murder someone," Oliver explained as he crouched down, "I'm also going to ask you to stop selling drugs, because if you don't, I'm one hundred percent going to come back and beat you up again."

"That's not fair, bro," Ivan whined, "I'm not the only one dealing Vertigo."

"Oh, don't worry, I know," Oliver replied, "And soon enough, this whole city is going to know this is what happens to anyone who deals that trash."

"You can't stop it, bro," Ivan said with a weak laugh, "Cottonmouth runs these streets. He'll find you and make you suffer for messing with his business, bro."

"We'll see," Oliver replied dismissively, "For now, it's time to say good night, bro."

"Good night, bro?" Ivan repeated in confusion.

With that, Oliver punched Ivan in the face, knocking him unconscious.

Standing up straight, Oliver turned his attention to the rest of the room, where he saw Roy, Matt, and Felicity huddled together in a corner.

"Are you all okay?" Oliver questioned, averting his gaze and changing his voice as he spoke.

"Yeah, thanks to you, man," Roy said, a look of wonder on his face, "You saved my life."

"Who are you?" Felicity questioned, an expression of shock plastered across her features.

"You know, I've been getting asked that a lot recently," Oliver said, pointing a finger at Felicity as he walked towards the door, "I'm really going to need to come up with an answer for that."

And with that, Oliver opened the front door to the building and slipped out into the night. For a moment, the three residents remained silent as they stared at the still open door.

"Okay, you guys are pretty straight laced, so I figured I'd check with you," Roy said as he looked at Matt and Felicity while gesturing at the rest of the room, "But you saw all that too, right?"

While Felicity nodded in reply, Matt said nothing, a pensive look on his face while his head was pointed in the direction of the door Oliver had disappeared through.

_Later_,

An hour or so later, a few police squad cars sat parked outside the Sherwood Apartments, the lights on top of the vehicles painting the street in flashing reds and blues. At that moment, a car pulled up to the barricade the police had set up around the apartment building. Pulling to a stop, two people exited the car.

The first was an older man with salt and pepper hair, Caucasian features, a slim build, and brown eyes. The second was a younger, African-American woman with brown eyes, an athletic build and an afro of brown, curly hair. Both were dressed in dark colored suits, with police badges dangling around their necks.

Flashing their badges as they walked past the police barricade, the two made their way up into the apartment building. Inside, the two found that Ivan and his men had already been taken away, with numerous plastic placards bearing numbers scattered across the floor in their place. Numerous crime scene investigators were spread around the room, taking pictures of the scene, while uniformed police officers talked with Matt, Felicity and Roy.

"Detectives," one of the officers greeted as he walked up to the pair.

"What's the situation?" the woman questioned.

"Gangland execution," the officer explained, "Though it went bad for the executioner this time."

"How so?" the man inquired.

"So, apparently, the owner of the building is also a known Vertigo dealer," the officer elaborated, "One of the tennents owed him some money and he decided that it was worth more to use the guy as an example than get the money. And that's where the twist comes in."

"Twist?" the woman asked as she arched an eyebrow.

"According to all the witnesses, some guy in a hoodie showed up out of nowhere and took the dealer and his men out," the officer explained as a grin spread across his face, "With a bow and arrow."

"Bow and arrow?" the man questioned skeptically, "You've got to be shitting me."

"If I'm lying, I'm dying," the officer replied with a chuckle as he pulled out a plastic bag and handed it to the detectives, "One of the CSIs already bagged and tagged this for you to look at."

Taking the bag, the woman looked over the arrow that was sealed inside, noting the dried blood on the weapon's tip.

"Damn," the man said with an impressed tone, "Certainly looks like the real deal to me."

"You said there were witnesses?" the woman questioned as she turned her attention back towards the officer while handing him the arrow.

"Right over there," the officer replied as he indicated towards the corner of the room where Felicity, Matt and Roy had been gathered.

"Thanks," the woman said as she indicated for her partner to follow her before she started walking towards the trio of witnesses.

"So, looks like we've got a vigilante on our hands," the man observed as he fell into step next to the woman.

"Just another criminal for us to catch," the woman replied simply.

"I don't know, this feels different," the man argued uncertainly, "You weren't here then, but I was on the force back when Black Lightning was still around, and this is already feeling like those days."

"And here I thought you'd been around since the Black Canary's day," the woman said with a smirk.

"Geez, partner," the man complained, "I'm not that old."

By that point, the two had reached Matt, Roy and Felicity, the latter two looking at the detectives as they approached.

"Good evening," the woman said as she and her partner flashed their badges, "I'm Detective Misty Knight, and this is my partner, Detective Rafael Scarfe. We were hoping to ask you all a few questions."

"Certainly, Detective," Matt replied with a nod of his head.

"Can you tell your names?" the woman, Misty, asked as she pulled out a notepad and pen.

"Of course," Matt continued as he gestured at himself and the two others, "I'm Matthew Murdock, and these are my neighbors, Roy Harper and Felicity Smoak."

"Can you tell me what happened here tonight?" Misty inquired.

"Well, our landlord Ivan tried to kill me!" Roy spoke up loudly.

"And why'd he try to do that?" Misty asked.

"I kind of owed him money," Roy admitted awkwardly.

"Your landlord tried to kill you over rent?" Scarfe questioned with a crooked eyebrow.

"Not exactly…." Roy replied hesitantly.

"Sir, we need you to be upfront with us if we're going to figure out what happened here," Misty stated as she looked pointedly at Roy.

"What I think my neighbor here is trying to voice is that he wants to help you without incriminating himself," Matt spoke up.

There was a pause as Misty turned her gaze towards Matt.

"Let me guess," she said with a sigh, "Lawyer?"

"Just opened up my own office," Matt answered with a grin.

"Fantastic," Scarfe commented under his breath.

"Very well," Misty stated as she turned her attention back to her notepad, "So the altercation occurred for….reasons. Can you tell me what happened after?"

"Well, Ivan was getting ready to put a bullet in my head while his goons held these two back," Roy replied as he gestured towards Felicity and Matt, "I thought I was dead until he showed up."

"And who is he?" Misty inquired.

"The dude in the hood!" Roy exclaimed with a laugh, "He's the reason you're here, isn't he? This dude with a bow and arrow showed up out of nowhere and took Ivan and his dudes out. It was like something out of a comic book."

"Kind of wish I had been here to see that," Scarfe commented, causing Misty to shoot him a withering glance.

"Did you know this person?" Misty inquired as she turned her attention back towards Roy.

"No way," Roy answered with a shake of his head, "I think I would remember if I had met a dude who could do backflips and shoot a bow and arrow at the same time."

"I can't say I recognized him either," Felicity added, "Though with the hood and the mask, I'm guessing that was the point."

"He wore a mask?" Scarfe questioned, "Like one of those old Zorro type deals around the eyes?"

"Nah, his covered the bottom part of his face," Roy answered with a shake of his head, "Like he was a ninja or something."

"Is there anything you can tell us about him?" Misty asked.

"Not much," Felicity admitted with a shake of her head, "He was kind of on the short side, but that's all I can really say."

"I might be able to help you if I could hear him talk again," Matt added with a shrug, "But beyond that, I'm not sure there's anything I could tell you."

"Very well," Misty said with a sigh as she closed her notepad, "We'll be in contact with you if we have any further questions."

"Good luck, Detectives," Matt replied with a nod.

"Man, this is crazy," Roy commented with a shake of his head as the detectives walked away, "Do you think we'll ever figure out who that guy was?"

Matt made no reply as he kept his head pointed towards the detectives while they headed towards the door, a solemn look on his face.

"Not exactly a lot to go on," Scarfe commented with a sigh as he put his hands in his pockets.

"No, but it will have to do," Misty replied as she tucked her notepad into her coat, "We'll have to have some uniforms look around for anyone else who may have seen something."

"You're certainly focused," Scarfe observed as they walked out the door.

"I know not everything is on the up and up in this city," Misty explained, "But we can't let people go around and take justice into their own hands."

"I don't know," Scarfe replied with a shrug as they made their way towards their car, "Worked the couple of times they tried before."

"Until it didn't," Misty countered solemnly.

"Misty!" a voice called out from the small crowd that had gathered on the other side of the police cordon, "Misty!"

"Uh oh," Scarfe said with a smirk, "Looks like your favorite member of the press wants to have a chat."

Sighing, Misty looked over in the direction the voice had come from. Directly behind one of the police barricades was a middle-aged man of African-American descent. He had short black hair threaded with silver, brown eyes behind thick, square-rimmed glasses, and was dressed in a brown jacket over a plaid, collared shirt and brown slacks.

"How did he get here so quickly?" Misty asked with a tone exasperation.

"You know him," Scare answered with a shake of his head, "He's got ears all around this town."

"What can I do for you, Mr. Ulrich?" Misty questioned as she walked over to the barricade while Scarfe waited for her.

"Oh, so we're on a last name basis now, Detective Knight?" the man retorted as he arched an eyebrow at Misty.

"You know I can't be too familiar with you, Ben," Misty replied with a shake of her head, "It's against regulations."

"Alright Detective, then can you tell me what happened here?" Ben inquired as he pulled out a pen and a pad of paper.

"Someone broke up a drug deal," Misty answered.

"Interesting," Ben replied as he jotted down a few notes, "And do you know anything about this person who broke up the drug deal?"

"Why are you so interested?" Misty inquired with an arched eyebrow.

"I just figured the people of Star City might want to know there's someone out there trying to put a stop to the poison flooding our streets," Ben observed with a shrug.

"What are you driving at here, Ben?" Misty asked as she crossed her arms, "You seem to know more than you're letting on."

"I have sources that say this was the work of a vigilante," Ben replied as he adjusted his glasses and gave Misty a knowing look, "An old-school vigilante."

"One of these days, I'm going to find the leaks in this old tub and plug them up," Misty sighed as she shook her head.

"So, what can you tell me about this guy?" Ben inquired eagerly, "Do we have another example of black excellence on our hands?"

"Black excellence?" Misty echoed with a snort.

"Of course," Ben confirmed with a proud nod, "Star City has a long history of black heroes. Black Canary. Black Lightning."

"Well, I don't know yet if this guy is black," Misty replied with a shake of her head, "It's certainly not in his color scheme."

"What does that mean?" Ben inquired with a crooked eyebrow.

"It means that the guy we're looking for dressed in green and uses a bow and arrow," Misty explained as she began backing away from Ben, "So, I guess you can tell your readers we're looking for Robin Hood."

As Misty left, Ben frowned over the information he had just been given. Looking down at his notes, Ben focused on his last entry, where he had written "wears green & uses arrows." As he read it, an idea struck Ben and a smile spread across his wrinkled face.

At the same time, Misty and Scarfe had almost made it back to their car.

"Hey, lady!" a voice called from nearby, prompting Misty to look over at its source, finding Oliver leaning against one of the barricades and giving her an annoyed look, "What the hell is going on here? I just got off a late shift and I'd appreciate it if I could go to freaking sleep now!"

"I'm sorry, sir, but there was an incident in your building," Misty replied as she gave Oliver a helpless shrug, "They'll let you back in as soon as the crime scene is clear."

As Misty continued on her way to her and Scarfe's car, Oliver sighed while leaning against the barricade. As he did, Oliver felt a drop of water hit him on the forehead. Glancing up, Oliver could see the night sky was blocked out by roiling clouds before rain began falling down on the city.

"Well," Oliver grumbled as he turned his attention back to his apartment building, "Isn't that just typical?"

_5 years earlier_,

The rain was pouring down hard as Oliver stumbled through the dark jungle, doing his best to keep up with the man who just saved him. Behind him, Oliver could hear the faint sound of men yelling to one another, along with the noise of an alarm, indicating the entire complex was on alert.

As the two ran through the jungle, Oliver's foot caught on the exposed branch of a tree, sending the young man crashing to the muddy ground. Hearing Oliver grunt as he landed, the man skidded to a halt before turning to look back at the younger man.

"You okay, kid?" the man questioned as he hurried to Oliver's side.

"Yeah, I think so," Oliver replied as he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees.

"Good, because we really have to keep moving," the man replied as he took one of Oliver's arms and tried to help the young man to his feet, only for Oliver's legs to buckle underneath him.

"I can't," Oliver said as he fought to catch his breath, "You got to give me a minute, man."

"Kid, really we can't stay here," the man replied as he cast a worried glance in the direction they had come.

"Man, I've been tied up for…." Oliver argued before trailing off as he tried to think, "Shit, I don't know how long. So unless you feel like carrying me, you're going to need to give me a minute."

The man studied Oliver with a clear expression of concern for a moment before he nodded in reply.

"Alright," the man said as he made his way over to a nearby tree and sat with his back against it, prompting Oliver to settle into a seated position on the muddy ground.

"What's your name, kid?" the man questioned.

"Oliver," the young man replied, "Oliver….Smith."

"Nice to meet you, Oliver," the man said with a nod, "My name's Clint."

"What are you doing here?" Oliver asked.

"I was about to ask you the same question," Clint replied with a snort.

"I came here with Robert Queen," Oliver explained, "We were on a boat, but these people sunk it and took us prisoner."

"Why were you on a boat with a fatcat like Robert Queen?" Clint questioned as his brow furrowed.

"He's….kind of my dad," Oliver admitted awkwardly.

"I didn't think Robert Queen had a son," Clint observed, "Only a daughter."

"Yeah, well apparently, I'm a secret love child that got dumped into the foster system," Oliver explained with a wry grin, "Trust me, it was a surprise to me too."

"Well, I guess I should figure out how to get your old man out of there too then," Clint observed with a sigh.

"You….You don't have to worry about that," Oliver replied as his face fell, "He's….He's dead. There's some crazy professor guy experimenting with this drug that makes you see shit. He was using the two of us as guinea pigs, and overdosed Robert."

"Aw jeez, kid," Clint said with a sympathetic expression, "I-I'm sorry."

"Yeah," Oliver sighed as he looked down at the ground, "Back to square one, I guess."

"What were you two doing here anyway?" Clint inquired.

"Robert said he was looking into some kind of business interests here," Oliver answered as he raised his head to look at Clint, "He brought me along so that we could get some bonding time in. Decided he finally wanted to be part of my life, I guess."

"Business interests?" Clint muttered to himself before a look of realization struck him, "The Trans-Pacific Railroad!"

"The what?" Oliver asked in confusion.

"It's this thing your dad, his company, was working on," Clint explained, "They're basically building a tunnel under the Pacific Ocean so they can run one of those bullet trains between Japan and the US."

"And what, you think it runs by this island?" Oliver inquired.

"Exactly!" Clint replied as he excitedly pointed at Oliver.

"And what does that have to do with these druggie pirate people?" Oliver questioned.

"I….don't know," Clint answered as he visibly deflated, "At least not yet."

"What are you doing here anyway?" Oliver pressed.

"Oh, that's easy," Clint chuckled as he reached into his parka and pulled out a badge before showing it to Oliver, "Clint Barton, Agent of SHIELD."

"SHIELD?" Oliver repeated, "Never heard of it."

"Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division," Clint explained, "And honestly, it's probably better that you haven't heard of us. Means we're doing our jobs right."

"And you're an agent of this SHIELD whatever?" Oliver inquired.

"Special agent," Clint corrected before holding up his bow, "That means they let me use this."

"They give their special agents worse equipment?" Oliver asked in confusion.

"I didn't hear you complaining when I saved your butt," Clint countered with a cross expression as he lowered his bow.

"Fair," Oliver relented, "Did SHIELD teach you how to do all that?"

"Nah, I learned that in the circus," Clint replied with a snort.

Oliver's only response was to arch an eyebrow at Clint.

"It's a long story," Clint replied with a wave of his hand, "To get back to your question, SHIELD picked up some intel that something weird was going down here and they sent me to check it out."

"Just you?" Oliver asked in surprise.

"Yeah, but I have some equipment that will let me call in some backup," Clint explained.

At that moment, both Oliver and Clint heard the sound of people approaching through the trees, accompanied by men yelling to each other in a language Oliver didn't understand.

"Speaking of backup," Clint muttered as he rose to his feet before moving over to Oliver's side and offering the young man his hand, "Come on, kid. We can't hang around here any longer."

Taking Clint's hand, Oliver let the older man pull him to his feet before hobbling after him as they both disappeared into the jungle.

A/N: So, this chapter was a lot of fun to write. Hope you guys enjoyed some more action after the last chapter. As always, feedback and critiques are always welcome, so please review! Later!


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